Main navigation

Encouragement

Today is dark and wintry. There is stillness in the air that has enveloped me and as I look out over the farm, the sun is slowly setting. A night like this always makes me remember a journey some thirty years ago. It was a cold, wintry night when all hope seemed lost.

That night, my father, mother and I had begun a week’s vacation to Canada. Driving on slippery roads most of the day, white fluffy flakes piled up over the mountain tops. It was brisk and lovely that evening, as the stars spilled out a beautiful light over the countryside. I remember feeling a bit nervous as my father gripped the steering wheel tightly, while my mother sat still resting her head against the car seat.

Every so often, I could see Dad’s forehead in the glimmer of the car lights. I knew he was concerned. It was strange how the fact that knowing he was at the wheel gave me an assuring comfort. But something in me still worried about the concerned look that clouded his face.

After what seemed like hours, my father’s gentle hand reached back and touched mine as I was resting with eyes closed, head leaning against the backseat.

“Kathy, I need you to start praying,” he said. I heard the gentle breathing of my mother and knew she was fast asleep.

“What is it, Dad?” I questioned.

“We’ve been driving for the past fourteen hours,” he answered, “and there isn’t one motel with a vacancy sign where we are now. I don’t know what to do. It’s close to midnight and I’m feeling exhausted. “

I started to feel his panic. I was wide awake now and I noticed that we continued to drive for miles without a town anywhere in sight. The sky was beautiful and clear, but there was no sign of human life … anywhere.

After another half hour went by, my father pulled to the side of the road and said, “Kathleen, you need to drive. I just can’t go on.”

I knew things were serious as my daddy didn’t call me Kathleen unless the situation was dire. I got outside and moved into the driver’s seat. I, like my father, was exhausted as well.

On top of my panic about the long stretches of no civilization, I added to my fretting the fact that I had only recently secured my driver’s license. I had no idea how I’d fair driving on icy roads in the dark night. I breathed a silent prayer and buckled my seatbelt.

I frequently checked my rear view mirror to see if my father was asleep. I felt very alone in the darkness. Quietness completely surrounded me. But somehow, as I prayed, I looked out and saw a huge windmill gently spinning in the crisp wind.

The light from the moon struck the windmill so that it looked like a big strong comforting force. Round and round it went and as we approached it, I noticed that light was bouncing off of it. A small row of little cabins sat directly behind the windmill, as warm yellow light in the cold night spilled out across the snow.

My father spoke so clearly, I can still hear him as he said, “Honey, it’s a place to stay. Pull in. Pull in.” The sign that was warm and orange blinked ”VACANCY.” Over and over it glistened against the freshly fallen snow in the fields around it. I looked up to see beautiful tall mountain tops and sparkly white lights. My mother groggily opened her eyes and wondered where we were.

It was one hour from when I had taken over driving. One hour of begging God for a safe retreat. Uncomfortable, cold, exhausted, and uncertain of our future, we had one thing going … faith in God for where we would end up.

My father got out and grabbed the suitcases and said to me, “Perhaps this is the same way that Mary and Joseph felt that night when over and over they were told there was no room. Cold, tired, hungry, and scared. Why, tonight even made me feel uneasy and scared.”

I couldn’t believe he said it. My father said he was “scared.” He had to be strong for us.But we had been in the dark, in the middle of nowhere, with no place to stay.

Scripture tells us in Luke 2:4-7, “So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”

The memory has stayed with me these past thirty nine years. And today, I am once again reminded of the thankfulness for a journey that ended with a place to rest.

This season, we remember the birth of Christ, the holiness of that event, and the presence of His salvation in our lives. Today, let there be a warm welcome sign that blinks ”VACANCY” shining in our hearts for Him today. Let’s make room for the Savior and allow Him to take His rightful home in our hearts.

Thanksgiving is a day for friends and family. We invite people to our homes, cook up huge amounts of food and look at the past year to recite our many blessings that God has bestowed upon us. As a little child, growing up in southwest Iowa, we invited my extended family and everyone would pour in the door in a fit of excitement. The grandmas, my grandpa, aunts, uncles and cousins, and Thanksgiving was special. But my father always prayed a prayer of thanks and we always told what we were thankful for. But Daddy always reminded us at the end of our day, Thanksgiving was not just a day to be thankful … it was an attitude of the heart.

When we take time to focus on GOD … not just on what He’s done for us, but on a Mighty, Powerful, Loving God, it makes our hearts thankful.

In ll Chronicles 20, we see that there is going to be an attack on King Jehoshaphat and the people of Judah and Jerusalem. In verse 14, we see that the spirit of the Lord came upon Jahaziel.

Do you know who this man Jahaziel was? According to 1 Chronicles, he was one of the Levites assigned to make music for the temple worship and had probably not been a prophet before this time. In verse 15 we learn what the Lord tells the king and his nation, through this singer, Jahaziel, “Listen,King Jehoshaphat and all who live in Judah and Jerusalem! This is what the Lord says to you: Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s.” Verse 17 tells Jehoshaphat, “You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you.” Look at what these people are doing in verse 18, look how they are living a life full of worshiping the Almighty God, and within worship is our reverence and our gratitude.

“Jehoshaphat bowed with his face to the ground and all the people of Judah and Jerusalem fell down in worship before the Lord. Then some Levites from the Kohathites and Korahites stood up and praised the Lord, the God of Israel, with a very loud voice. Early in the morning, they left for the Desert of Tekoa. As they set out, Jehoshaphat stood and said, ‘Listen to me, Judah and people of Jerusalem! Have faith in the Lord your God and you will be upheld; have faith in His prophets and you will be successful.’

After consulting the people, Jehoshaphat appointed men to sing to the Lord and to praise Him for the splendor of His holiness as they went out at the head of the army, saying: ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for His love endures forever.’”

As they began to sing and praise, the Lord created ambushes against the men of Ammon and Moab and Mount Seir, who were invading Judah, and they were defeated.

I find it almost amusing that Jehoshaphat sends out the singers. Why amusing? As I’ve been working with musicians for over 25 years, I note specific things about them. They are emotional, caring, diligent,detailed, and yet sometimes spacey. They are supportive and love to cry.

I can honestly tell you that they are not much on athletics. They are not typically courageous, and they are not usually fighters. However, if God allowed Jehoshaphat to send out the bodybuilding youth pastors, or the church members who were at the gym all week, the glory wouldn’t have been there. Within this story, a simplistic lesson is given.

Do you see it? The kind and caring singers went first. They are not powerful. They are not muscular and athletic. No, they are emotional and worship-filled, they are God-fearing and thankful.

They are probably scared senseless within their awareness of their own humanness, but they are no doubt focused on the protection and power of their Almighty God through worship. They have heard His promise and its simple … walk first … sing the song … worship Me … I will protect you and you will win. No harm will come to you.

And they do just that. They go out with their song, and belt out the words, “Give thanks to the Lord for He is good, for His mercy endureth forever.”

When we put God first in everything, when we have attitudes that are prayerful, worshipful, and grateful, there is POWER to defeat the enemy.

When I met my husband, many years ago, I picked up on all of his habit-phrases. You know the ones I mean … when people say the same thing after the same situation occurs.

One of Farmer Dean’s familiar sayings comes after my delivering some desires and hope of what we should do over the weekend, or some task to take care of at the farm or the little church. “Will you help me?” I’ll ask.

He’ll respond with his habit- phrase: “Sounds like a plan.”

He delivers those words freely and frequently and that often brings me comfort and peace. It inevitably means that my farmer is on board and we’re moving towards a common goal.

But it isn’t always like that with God, is it?

More often than not, I will find myself planning things, preparing for events with specific details mapped out for the journey ahead of me.

I’ll map out everything for work that I’m going to accomplish the next morning … and then a friend shows up for an unexpected visit in need of some coffee and a listening ear.

I’ll deliver the schedule for our Best Life event to the team and someone speaks to long or goes to short. The timing gets all mixed up.

I’ll create my shopping list to head to the store and my daughter calls and says she needs a babysitter promptly.

I’ll plan our vacation to the exact minute, and we’ll hit a detour leading us an hour out of the way.

Here’s what I learned from these adventures. God’s in the plan. He’s orchestrating His will and His way for a bigger picture.

As I review those examples I just shared, I can tell you … God’s plan was better!

The friend was prayed over and encouraged. She was much more important than my work. She was God’s work.

At the events where timing gets off, I see the Holy Spirit working as He needs to so that He can reach the people’s hearts.

The shopping list for the store, well nothing I could have picked up was as important as picking up my granddaughter.

And the vacation, when we went an hour out of our way, we visited a beautiful old church and met someone with wonderful words of wisdom and comfort.

So when I find myself irritated and grumpy because the plan has now changed, and my “Sounds Like a Plan” has shifted to “God’s Change of Plans” I remind myself … God’s in this, He’s got this, and His ways are just better.

The first thing I do after I open my eyes in the morning is talk to God. Then, I talk to Farmer Dean. Then, I turn the music on at my house.

My brother calls it “grocery store music,” but I call it music from the 1940s and 50s. It’s soothing to my soul. As a matter of fact, sometimes it takes me back to being a little child, shopping with my mother at the Hy-Vee in Clarinda, Iowa.

Once the grocery store music is playing throughout the house, I talk to people. The house phone rings. The cell phone rings. People … people … people.

The doors are opened to let the cool sounds of summer rain into my office, while the dripping drops plop onto the lawn furniture. A screech of tires go past on the road outside the house, and a familiar honk of a large semi toots “hello” as it passes the little church.

All of these things bring me comfort. All of these things relate to sound. I love sound.

As a former Worship Director, I had music playing continuously. I needed to listen to the latest and greatest so that my congregation could keep up with what was relevant.

Sounds are a constant in this world.

When Dean and I travel, we throw in a CD and listen to a pastor preach. Or, I read a book out loud to the two of us.

When Dean and I are at home, we have the TV blaring the most recent news, or we have a CD of birds and music floating through the house.

But whatever I’m doing, wherever I am, I have to have sound.

That is … until last week.

Last week I was with my granddaughter, Cordelia. Cordie and I decided to play with Play dough at the big old farm table. I quick jumped up after I got everything set out and said to her, “I forgot, I’ll quick put the Little Mermaid CD in.”

And then it happened. A three year old looked up from her masterpiece of a play dough snowman and said, “We don’t need sound, Nan. We just need quiet.”

Huh? What? No sound. I don’t think I can do it.

She looked directly at me and said, “Please, Nan, sit down. Let’s just play in the quiet.”

And we did.

You know what happened? I was at Peace. I felt Patience. I was Listening. I was fully Attentive. I was Engaged. I was Resting.

A three year old taught me a lesson I needed to re-learn. That sometimes the quiet is what works best. Sometimes in quiet we can get more done, we can rest our weary minds and souls, we can embrace something that is so necessary in today’s world.

In television comedies, like I Love Lucy, an actor opens a surreptitiously bulging door to a storage area and is buried in an avalanche of junk. Something similar happened one day when all three of my daughters visited my home. My youngest, Jenessa, tried to open the basement closet door.

A small pow-wow between the girls produced determined attitudes. They announced it was time to clean out the big-crowded basement closet and they would help. The basement closet is everyone’s typical basement closet. It’s the place where everyone’s junk gets tossed. Three daughters, a mom and dad, all pitch whatever they don’t want to think about, into this big walk-in closet.

The shelves go from floor to ceiling and they are peppered with big plastic bins. You know the kind of stuff that’s in those bins … the things that you just don’t have a clue where to put them. They are the things you want to store, because you can’t make yourself get rid of them. You tuck them away, close the lid and walk away.

But middle daughter Chandra headed down the stairs and said, “I’m facing the bins. I’m facing the clothes and boots I don’t want, the old CDs, the stacks of books. I’m facing it all.”

Just like that she pulled out one of her bins without realizing that our old Monopoly game that’s taped together (it’s a throwback to 1975 and escaped the bin storage), money torn and pieces missing, was quickly scattered across the floor.

There we were, all four of us scrunched into this closet looking for pieces of the game. There was some money; there was the thimble, a couple of green houses, a red hotel, and a GoDirectly to Jail card. We started trying to put them all back in the box.

Jenessa said, “Mom, pieces of this game have been missing forever. We should really dump it all out and see what’s in it and go from there.”

And suddenly it dawned on me! That’s what we need to do today. We need to take a good long look at what’s in our hearts. We need to dump everything out and look at our motivations, our intentions, and our actions. We need to figure out where the words and feelings are coming from, why they’re in there, what it looks like, and if we have just taped up the box and shoved it on the shelf with pieces that are missing, torn or broken. We need to dump it all out today and take a look to see what we’ve got.

King David is referring to God when he says, “Create in me a pure heart, oh God.” In order to dump out his own words and look at them, he’s going to replace what’s in there with the good stuff of God … right back into the box of his mind and heart … seal it up with some strong God-tape… and go from there.

We stuff life in, we keep things we don’t need to and harbor resentment that tatters and frays the edges of our heart and then we stuff it all in and put it back on the shelf of the closet of life. But that stuff, those pieces, will eventually come out. Often, if we’re not totally aware of what we’ve stored in the heart’s bin, it will come out sideways resulting in sin.

It’s time to dump everything out. It’s time to go through the pieces and see what belongs and what you need to clean out. Let’s start with a spring cleaning of the heart and soul. Let’s open the doors, breathe in the fresh air, and feel renewed.